An Affair to Remember Me By
by theSoundofLiterature
Summary: After a night on the town, Rachel's world is turned upside down when she rediscovers the joy, the hurt, and the pain that is Quinn Fabray. Set in NYC after high school and glee club.
1. Chapter 1

I wasn't sure what brought me here tonight; places like this have never much been my scene. Alas, Benjamin was adamant about it, he's been trying to get me out of my apartment for months, and after turning him down over and over again, I was practically forced out of the house and into this crowded bar. A gay bar, in the middle of The Village.

And now that I'm actually here, I feel completely out of place. Don't get me wrong, I love all people, I mean I grew up with two gay fathers, and I personally like to think of my own sexuality as it's own fluid entity.

I've lived and I've loved both men and women in my lifetime, and so I know that it isn't that which is making me shake in my heels. Perhaps it's the twenty something half naked women dancing on poles to my immediate left. Yes, that's it. While I can appreciate physical beauty – something about sexual exuberance knocks me on edge. And so here I am…sitting in a small booth in the corner, sipping on a tonic water and lime as I watch the shenanigans unfurling themselves on the dance floor.

"Rachellllll darlinggg… get your ass out here on this dance floor!"

Benjamin is yelling at me now from the adjacent table. He is wasted – I find it absolutely endearing and hilarious. But I doubt that I'll oblige him – and so I continue to sip on my drink as I play with the napkins at the table. And then the next sip from my straw draws bubbles and gurgling, and when I look down I frown – it's empty. And so, I get up and make my way up out of the booth and through the dance floor towards the bar. Benjamin grabs my hand quickly and asks me to grab him another Sex on the Beach. I nod and smile brightly as I untangle myself and approach the bartender.

The bar is crowded, hell it's close to 12am now. I laugh at the drunken couples around me, happy for their intoxicated happiness before catching sight of a tangle of blonde hair behind the counter. I yell out to flag her down for my drink order, and before she approaches I dig through my purse for a $20. It isn't until I look up – that I realize that my entire world has been turned completely on its axis.

She spots me at the same time, tumbler in hand, and she almost drops it in her shock. Her hazel eyes are exactly as I remember them – god, has it really been five years? She stares back at me intensely, I'm surprised to find that her countenance is simply that of surprise – she holds none of the maliciousness that I would have expected perhaps. It almost knocks me off of my feet at how gorgeous she is – photographs have simply never done Quinn Fabray justice. How could I have forgotten?

"Quinn…"

I all but stammer as my body is frozen to the spot; her mouth hangs open slightly and she finally blinks her now uncharacteristically warm eyes. And before she can respond a drunken guy with glitter on his face calls for a drink at the opposite end of the bar. She turns and smiles at him before turning wide eyes back on me again. I watch her as she shakes her head and steadies herself. I do the same. And when she finally meets my eyes again – her familiar Fabray wall is up and entering the fray.

"Rachel Berry…It's been a while. Long time no see."

I want to stammer in her face. Long time no see? For Barbra's sake, it's been five years. How she remains so calm and nonchalant, I can never know, but I simply nod like an idiot and open and close my mouth in return. She must still think I'm an idiot, surely.

"Rachel, I need your drink order."

Her eyes are shifting across the bar at all of the waiting customers and I finally blink through the shock, and nod my head. When I finally open my mouth again, I can barely recognize my own voice.

"Uh, um. A dirty martini would be most appreciated. And a sex on the whatever drink? One of those fruity things?"

Quinn smiles – and goodness gracious, if I had forgotten how gorgeous the blonde was, I had surely forgotten how jaw droppingly stunning she is when she _really_ smiles. Perhaps I had never really known. Quinn Fabray wasn't known for her happy demeanor at McKinley no matter how hard she may have tried.

"You don't drink much do you Rachel?"

I nod my head, but I'm not exactly sure what she just said, I'm thoroughly distracted. But before I can snap out of it all, I feel a soft hand pushing something into my arm that is draped over the bar-top. I blink out of my thoughts and look down to find my two ordered drinks in front of me.

"We'll make it on the house Berry. For old times sake – good seeing you."

And if I weren't shocked off of my rocker before, I am even more so now. And I'm surprised at how saddened I am suddenly at the fact that she referred to me as 'Berry' again – I rather liked Rachel…but nonetheless, I can tell that she's busy and that she needs to get back to work, and so I smile tentatively at her and my cheeks must be burning scarlet at my embarrassment.

"Thank you Quinn."

She nods and smiles back - another one of those sun-blinding ones – goodness, if she keeps doing that I'm going to melt into a pool of strawberry jelly on this very dance floor. I tip her the $20 anyways and watch as she turns her attention onto another patron – silently wishing she was still focused on me. I stare after her for an un-allotted period of time before I feel a strong hand slapping me playfully on the butt from behind. I turn to yell into the perpetrators face but quiet my voice when I lay eyes on Benjamin. He's smiling at me and reaching for his drink – taking it and sipping on it leisurely as he lazily lays a hand across his boyfriend Oliver's slender waist.

"Rachel, babe – way to take a _century_. If I knew you'd be that long, I would have gotten drinks myself."

I'm a bit put off by his commentary, so I simply take another tentative sip of my martini. _Blech_ – why did I order this? All I know is that it sounds thoroughly classy and appealing in TV shows like Mad Men. But now that I have it – I am completely disgusted. I should have known better, I detest hard alcohol – not excluding the fact that it's a killer on the vocal chords. But suddenly I'm thrown out of my pout as Benjamin downs the rest of his drink and heads back to the bar, dragging me and Oliver along with him.

"Bartender lady! Could you be a darling and head this way when you get a second?"

He trills loudly against the counter, and I could have died against the countertop at his crassness. Quinn turns and grins at him – she gives him a devilish smirk before settling her eyes back on me – it shocks me at how quickly they change – the swimming hazel turns softly to a cool green, and her irises settle on me warmly. I smile in return – sure that she's captured me in a single look. God, how was this all even real?

Benjamin turns from Quinn to me and back again, his grin growing wilder as he howls into the stuffy bar air. Oliver grips him tighter as he wolf whistles against his boyfriends shoulder.

"She's a stunner babe."

"Woooo…don't let me interfere darling!"

My cheeks are burning, because this isn't what that was at all – and I'm now mortified, but I'm rooted in place as I watch Quinn walk towards us unfazed. Well – not completely unfazed, her cheekbones give her away, but aside from the light blush there, she is cool and collected. Gorgeous, calculated, Quinn Fabray. She smiles at Benjamin and Oliver teasingly before asking them for their drink orders.

"What'll it be boys? Something to tantalize your taste buds?"

"Ohhhh, you're a feisty one– I like her, Olive!"

I watch as Oliver nods graciously, cooing after Quinn all in the while. I could have died right then and there, but before I'm even granted that single opportunity, Quinn is staring back at me, her hand brushing nonchalantly against mine as she reaches for a wet rag as we connect eyes.

"Need anything else Rachel?"

"Um..uh…I – don't think, maybe…but not exactly. I um, I have a show tomorrow evening."

When did I melt into a blubbering baboon? Quinn smiles at me and pours me a tonic water and lime, with a spritz of cranberry. I take it from her graciously and sip on it – it was absolutely divine. She is still looking at me when I look up again.

"Thank you again…I'm sorry – this is all so surreal."

"It's not everyday you run into your adolescent arch-enemy in a New York City gay bar – so I think surrealism aside, you're forgiven."

What? I nod and move my head frantically, but I'm still trying to comprehend everything that just flowed so eloquently from her mouth. She said it all so easily – as if none of it even mattered to her, which within itself is utterly baffling because the Quinn Fabray that I once knew would have never been as accepting.

Frankly, she would have never made it to New York. And so it is with a new conviction that I strike up the courage to ask my next question – now that we are here, and somehow we have become amicable – I can't help but theorize answers – and although we aren't really friends, my personality favors bluntness.

"Quinn I apologize in advance for this – but my curiosity is piqued, and timidity has never been one of my favored attributes…but why are you here? In New York? Hell, working at a gay bar as a bartender? I'm sorry if I seem blunt – but the last time we saw each other was at graduation, you were far from amicable. I'm just surprised, that's all."

I watch her as her shoulders fell in a shrug, she is still smiling, it's a closed lip smirk – but a warm gesture nonetheless, and it confuses me even further. But before I can gain a proper answer, she's being called to the other end of the bar. I watch her shoulders rise up in work mode, and she ticks her tongue in annoyance at the interruption.

However her body language tells me enough – she would have answered – she would have answered wholeheartedly. I shrug my shoulders in return, watching her turn to make her way back into the fray. And to my surprise just as she's walking away she turns on her feet and catches me with a look that I can't quite place. Worry, Awe, Fear, Happiness, Hope?

And before I can overthink it she's yelling at me from where she's rooted herself.

"I –Rachel. ..I'm off at 1:30…If you want to stick around…or talk… or whatever."

And before I can nod my very shocked "okay" in return, Oliver and Benjamin are surrounding me and pretending to dry hump the air around my torso, while singing "I Want To Sex You Up" by Color Me Badd. I bury my face in my hands and watch through parted fingers as Quinn laughs while turning her head – making her way toward a new customer at the bar, all the while shaking her head in time with the house music playing in the background. God, what have I just gotten myself into?

**QRQRQRQR**

"Hey babe, me and Olive are heading home. It's been a wildddd night, and it's time for our beauty rest."

I laugh at Benjamin and Oliver, the two of them holding the other tightly by the waist. Ben's hair is a tangled mess as Oliver runs his hands through it in drunken daze – it's one of the cutest things I have ever seen. The two of them are clearly hammered, but I hail a cab for them all the same and wave goodbye as they make their way into the backseat and drive off down the street. I look at my cell phone, it is now 1:42am, and as I lean against the front wall of the bar I can't help but think, "what am I doing?"

And before I can even begin to acquiesce to the inevitable whirlpool of self-doubt, there is a blonde saddling up to me by my right side; nudging me softly against the shoulder- before laughing into the cold November air around us.

"Hey you."

I look up at those anchoring hazel eyes and just get lost again. I smile back like a dork and nod my head as I lean off of the wall, and start to head down the street – I know she'll follow and so I keep a steady, even pace as my fingers curl up inside of my pea coat pockets.

"So – you were asking me a question earlier."

I'm still flabbergasted by just how different this Quinn Fabray is – it's as if I never knew her. And it's unsettling, not in a bad way – but simply in a way where you feel as though you're treading along shallow water – shallow water that you once thought was deep and vindictive, but somehow – it may have all just been an illusion.

"I did. You're actually going to answer?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"I just – you aren't what I expected."

I watch as Quinn pulls out a pair of black rimmed glasses from her shoulder bag and place them over her eyes as if she's always worn glasses. Has she always worn those? I actually wouldn't know, but nonetheless it's just another thing to add to my ever-growing list of how much Quinn Fabray has really changed since we last saw each other.

"It's been five years Rachel – did you still expect me to be the same bitter, broken seventeen year old from McKinley? I like to think that I've changed since then – and I couldn't be happier with where I've ended up in my life."

"I'm happy for you Quinn. Really."

"Thanks Rachel – but I still haven't actually answered your question, I'd like to tell you if you still want to hear."

I nod – and scrunch my eyebrows, My fingertips are cold, and I have no idea where we are walking to at the moment, but I couldn't care less because I'm with Quinn, and she's about to really open up to me for the first time.

"Quinn I've always cared – and I'll never stop listening."

Quinn smiles warmly down into my eyes again – this time letting them soak me up completely – is it strange that I suddenly feel so naked? So vulnerable to her? As if she has my heart clenched between her slender fingertips, waiting to breathe life into whatever it is I'm offering, or simply waiting to watch it wither away.

"Well…let me start by saying that I'm openly gay now. It's something that I discovered about myself not long before graduation. And while I have your attention – my life in Lima, at McKinley is probably the most trying thing that I've ever overcome. I didn't know who I was – I wasn't sure about who or what to believe in, I had no one to confide in. And it took every ounce of me to make it out of that cesspoole of mediocrity.

I made it to the University of Rochester, and I just got lost in myself up there. I studied abroad in Peru for a year, and I met women who just _loved_. And I stopped caring about what other people thought about me. – there's a moment when you're floundering, where you have the option of either accepting your fate as is, or going for broke. I went for broke. And now – I'm in grad school at NYU for public relations – and this bartending job is just something to keep paychecks and tip money in my pockets. Aside from that – I'm still Quinn, I'm just five years wiser than I once was – and I've finally found my way back to a place where I can simply _breathe_."

She had just talked. And I simply listened with a swelling heart. This girl had endured so much – and I have no right to swoon over her or care for that matter. But there has always been a piece of my heart that belonged to Quinn Fabray. Our trials in high school were violent and vindictive and stinging – and yet, I always pined for the blonde, I attempted over and over again to be the one to save her. At the time I had no idea what propelled my motives – at sixteen I would have pegged it all on glee club success and friendship. But ever since leaving Lima – and essentially losing Quinn, I've known. I've always known.

"Quinn…"

"It's a lot I know… I'm sorry to just dump it all on you. But you're the first person from my past besides Santana and Brittany to know. And it feels like a heaviness has been lifted from my heart…I've been meaning to find you."

"You—what? Really?"

"Yea. Santana lives in DC you know – Johns Hopkins Medical School. She's a closet nerd that one. Anyway – she took B out here to see a play on Broadway for her birthday. And she doesn't know shit about Broadway and so she just picked the play by whatever name sounded the most interesting online…lo and behold – it was _your_ play, just you."

"Santana and Brittany saw me!…on stage? I have to send out thank you letters to them first thing in the morning, why didn't they say anything!"

"Cool your balls Berry. I think San was just overwhelmed – I mean, five years is a long time, and you all never really got along … but back on track – she told me about it the next morning, and she said you were breathtaking. Ever since then, I've been on a mission to track you down – and to at least build some of the bridges I burned down a long time ago."

"Oh..wow, this is a lot Quinn."

"I'm sorry – but I just want you to know that Santana was right – you were breathtaking up there. It was like you were home."

I couldn't believe any of it – Quinn Fabray was melting my heart as I stood there on the concrete sidewalk staring into her red-frosty cheeks and gorgeous pristine face. Could this be real? Am I simply living within a dream?

"No, I don't mean that in a negative way – it's just a lot, and it means so much that you would even care to see me perform, or simply just care about me at all. And I knew you back then Quinn – I tried to get through to you, and I tried and I felt like such a failure because I watched you go…But you're here now, standing in front of me stronger and more beautiful than I've ever seen you before – and I simply don't know what to do with myself. I'm –"

She places a cold hand on my chin and pulls my gaze up then. She's looking at me so intensely I think I might combust under her hazel gaze. I watch her as she dusts a piece of hair out of my chilled face – and suddenly my heart catches in my throat. I can no longer form words as I got lost within her once again. How did this keep happening? How could I find myself so swept off of this earth by the blonde when we have barely rekindled any form of a friendship only a mere few hours ago?

Everything just seems so backwards, and strange, and uncharted – but oddly it's all so very right. As if every missing jigsaw puzzle piece of my life have suddenly all come into place at the exact same moment. And just when I didn't think that my brain could turn further into mush – there are cool, soft lips meeting mine so slowly I want to scream out in joy.

My brain cut off. And I just feel. The air keeps whipping my hair around my face – and all I can smell and taste is Quinn. She's gorgeous and soft, and rigid in all of the right places – and she's so feminine I want to swoon. It's a kiss that encumbers everything I thought it should be when I was sixteen and so confused about my feelings and intentions regarding the blonde. That confusion is gone now – it melted away a long time ago. And I can't help but fall apart in her arms. Her lips draw a pattern against my own and I'm all but lost at sea.

She finally breaks apart and I dip my forehead onto her shoulder. There is a wetness on my cheek – and as the cold air passes again it makes itself known. They are tears, but in my state I don't know whose they could possibly be, my own or hers. She wraps her slender arms around me tightly and we just sway together on the pavement – wrapped up in each other completely as if the world around us didn't matter.

"I'm sorry Rachel – for who I was."

"Don't apologize, because this is now – just hold me for a little bit longer."

We stand there in silence for a few more minutes before she separates an arm and hails a cab. I don't remember much as she helps me climb in, and before I can fathom the sequence of events we are at her apartment building, and she's dragging me inside by the hand – wrapping me up in her completely as we fall onto her bed. It smells so much like Quinn that I want to cry. And I simply crawl up and kiss her deeply as I fall into her. I lift my head and scan her face – trailing along her cheeks and nose, stopping myself to slowly take off her glasses.

"I love these."

I say as I place her black frames on the night table, now caressing her face intently as I stare deeply into the pools of hazel swirling beneath me.

"I hate my glasses – I only wear them when I'm in between contacts. I'm getting my new pair tomorrow in the mail."

"No, wear these all the time."

I croon as I move to cover her completely again. I feel her smile into my neck before trailing feather light kisses there. And I just fall into her, I fall into her so completely that I can't stop the impact of it all. And it's simply one of the best feelings I've had in a long time. Much too long – and she's unraveling me at the seams…god, what am I doing?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Sometimes there are moments where we have to let our bodies take over for our minds, because physicality is all that can be transcended within a sweeping whirlpool of emotions. At least that's what I tell myself as I pull Rachel underneath me and grind helplessly into her left hipbone. It's pathetic really, the extents that I seem to have gone through to meet the girl writhing underneath me now – it was never my intention to cart her to my apartment in the middle of the night like a common hooker though. Wrist slap number one Fabray.

However I must say – that although it seems as if I have the libido of a twelve-year-old boy – sleeping here, now, was never the final component of the equation. Hell there wasn't even a formula to begin with! All I know is that a few hours ago I walked into work as if it were any other Friday night. I never expected to turn around and find the object of my affection standing right there in front of me. I never thought that she would stay. And least of all, I never believed that she would listen.

And here we are. My long lost unrequited love. Rachel freaking Berry – and god she feels so good. She's groaning into me as we speak, and I can't stop my hips from rocking deliciously against hers – I can't complain, she's most definitely rocking back. She kisses my mouth fiercely, and I would be lying if I said I didn't feel it all the way down to my toes. And now she's biting me. She's dragging my lower lip with her teeth with just the right amount of force to make my eyes roll back.

If she's gonna play dirty – she better prepare herself. In retaliation I inch my body down hers, ending up with my mouth right up against her navel. She's openly panting now, I smirk – because, goddamn I am good. I run my hands down her torso and pull up at her shimmery blouse – moving it all the way up to her neck. My fingers are firm, her skin is so incredibly hot. And just like that, I lower my lips to her abs, trailing my tongue along her skin until I reach her belly button and suck there. I hear her intake a sharp breath and I do the same – this is all making me deliciously dizzy. Is Rachel Berry really here, in my apartment? Is she really letting me hold her and touch her like this? Should I stop?

My mind is on autopilot. Of course I know that if we take things further it would mean a lot of things. Firstly I'm sure that either one or both of us will end up being hurt – but I can't seem to stop my questing fingers and she isn't stopping them for me. God, I've wanted to taste this skin for so long. I've wanted to be hers, and only hers for far too long for me to remember, especially now.

And then I move even farther south, trailing a blazing hot path with my tongue as I unbutton her jeans. Her hands have found my hair – it's still in a ponytail from work, she fists the hairband free, and suddenly my hair is falling down around my face and shoulders – her hands are reveling in it.

I cup her bottom and squeeze playfully before dragging my fingers across the hem of her jeans, pulling them down slowly – eyeing her skin as my hands descend. I drop her pants to the floor and crawl above her again, pulling my black shirt over my head as I straddle her with my knees. Her hands are flying to my abdomen, and she squeezes my hips before biting her lip. What a vixen.

I stare into her eyes then – they're dark and infinitely deep, and as I hold them I get lost in them – within moments the entire mood has changed. Initially we were ravishing just for the sake of enjoyment. But now, with those beautifully tender eyes on mine, I can see all of the emotions swirling just beneath the surface. And suddenly, this has become way more than a divine, lucky fuck. This is Rachel Berry. The object of my unyielding affection – and I have to show her just how much she deserves to be loved.

She pulls my head down by the back of my neck, and now our lips are meeting in a slow waltz. I pull her bottom one in between my own and she reciprocates by trailing my top lip with a warm flick of her tongue. I have the sudden need to encompass her everywhere, I run a hand up to her neck, ghosting over her covered breasts and I just stare into her gorgeous face.

"Hi."

"Hey."

And then I kiss her first on the lips and then on the cheek before burying my face onto her shoulder as without warning I find her panties, and delve my fingers slowly inside. Her hips jerk from the shock – she wasn't expecting that, I smirk into her shoulder. But soon the smirk is gone because my fingertips have suddenly laid ground on the wetness of her. She whimpers into my left ear as I study the apex of her terrain. She's so fucking hot, I can barely stand it – my hips continue the steady rocking that they had forgotten moments ago, and suddenly I'm reminded of just how wet Rachel is making me, it's almost unbearable.

"Oh my god, Quinn…why do you feel so good?"

I wasn't expecting her to speak. I can barely form words let alone have a conversation. Her breath is coming out wispy and strained, I increase my pace against her clit, stroking it in fast firm circles, moving with her keening body. I look up and kiss her again as my answer, and our tongues fight for pleasure against the other. I forget that her hands had been fisted in my hair – because suddenly I realize their absence. And before I can look to see what she's done with them – I can feel one of them snaking over my bra, digging underneath the wire and cupping me fully.

I whimper into her lips as she trails her fingernails over my nipple.

"More."

She nods her head, her eyes wide with satisfaction as her other hand digs underneath the hem of my pants. I'm still wearing pants? Regardless, I can feel her fingertips burying themselves under my panties, and now – _holy fuck_ – she's running her digits up my center, teasing my entrance ever so deliciously as she finds my clit.

"Rachel."

I gasp into her, and she sighs right back into me as our hips ride together. There's something so erotic about it – and I can't stop. I can feel myself falling deeper and deeper into the brunette as our bodies collide. I'm holding her as closely as I can, as I pant into her skin – her fingers making miracles happen in my pants. (god, did I just think that?) I kiss my way across her collarbone before finding her breasts, they're still covered but I don't care. I pull her bra up quickly and latch myself at her nipple – savoring the salty sweetness of her skin.

"Keep goi—don' stop, Quinn."

She's falling apart underneath me now. I can feel her legs trembling from the force of attempting to maintain composure. I know this because my own are doing the exact same thing. Dancing fingers moving the two of us to the edge of something so daunting, and yet divinely satisfying. I quicken the pace of my tongue on her breasts, my hand at her clit, and my hips at her hips. I can feel her fingers toying with the idea of sinking in – and so I make the first strategic play.

She's so fucking wet. My fingers slide in, one at a time, in and out – and she practically erupts off of the comforter at the welcome intrusion. I make use of my thumb and put it to work at her center while my middle and ring fingers work diligently within her. She's gasping for air now as she clutches at me tighter. Her fingers work at a rapid pace, circling my entrance and dipping in and out now. Our hips are bumping – it should hurt – but it feels too good to stop. And now I can feel her torso constricting, I release my mouth from her breasts and look down at her as we move in rhythm. Her pupils are dilated and far away with desire – but I capture her lips one last time as I feel my orgasm pending.

She comes first. Arching into my fingers as the tremors overtake her – I watch her ride them like a fucking wave, her moans and high pitched nonsensical gasps fill my foggy head as she lays her mantra thick.

"Quinn. Fuck. Quinn, holy shit. Quinn –"

And her fingers are still moving inside of me, and I just burst apart. I deliver one final, lasting jerk of my hips to hers as my orgasm hits my nervous system full force. I can't stop my body from keening as the waves flood and tense my muscles. It's so warm in here now. I look down – my eyes are hazy, but I can see that she's staring back up at me, and before I can claim her lips she's already claiming mine. The kiss is slow and soft – a promise, or a thank you I don't know.

But as I wrap her up in the post orgasmic aura of our love-making, I feel a connection to her that I haven't felt with anyone else – and we only ran into each other a few hours ago. The idea that she might leave, strikes me and I visibly flinch at the thought – because although I act as though I need nothing in my life – I need this.

"Will you stay here, with me?"

I'm not usually this vulnerable. In fact I haven't had sex in months, but I've never opened myself up to anyone directly after – my eyes shift because she makes me nervous. I watch her smile at me brightly, oh my god, she's stunning. Her hair is wild and splayed across my pillows and she looks so fucking perfect, I could hold her forever.

"Did I even have a choice?"

Her words could be taken in a negative tone, but I realize that she's playing with me. Making light of the fact that she's just as emotionally wrapped up in this as I am. She scoots her body from beneath so that we're side by side now, and she turns her eyes back on me – I'm just now realizing that she's oddly quiet for Rachel Berry I grab on to her hips and hold her as I smile back at her witty little answer.

"You're going to be the end of me Rachel Berry. Quinn Fabray who? It was good knowing her."

"Stop it silly."

I'm laughing at her blush. I like laughing with her. And it's now that I realize that she's blurring on the edges of my irises. Apparently I've been so wrapped up that I've forgotten my need for vision enhancing eyewear. I reach behind Rachel's head and snatch them up from the night table where I set them and before I can scoot them onto my face Rachel is grabbing them gently out of my hand with her sticky little fingers.

"What is with you and my glasses Berry? Is this some sort of sick fetish?"

"Would you like me less if it was?"

I watch her put them on her face, scrunching up her eyes and nose as she fixes them across the bridge of her nose.

"Hell no – but, really what is it with my glasses?"

I smile at her as she squints her eyes open slightly behind the frames.

"I honestly didn't know you wore glasses before tonight Quinn. How long have you worn them?"

She's still wearing my glasses on her face, but her eyes are shut again. Why is she so cute? I can hardly stand it.

"Since I was four."

Her eyes pop open again in shock and then she flinches at the unwelcome blurriness, she hurries and snatches the glasses off of her face before affixing them to my own.

"Since you were four? You never wore them at school…"

"I know."

"Why not?"

"I never liked them. I've had contacts since I was about thirteen or fourteen – I only wear my glasses when I absolutely need to. They make me look nerdy."

It wasn't the time to delve into the fact that my glasses reminded me of far more complicated times when I wasn't as confident in myself and my appearance as I deserved to be. Rachel doesn't need to hear that – for now, I decide to keep it light.

"I think you look fucking hot."

Oh –What? Rachel Berry and swearing…more please! But back to pressing matters, I catch her lips again fiercely and she relinquishes under my touch. I glance over at the alarm clock by my bed, it reads 3:08am – and then I feel her fingers at my waist, digging into the skin firmly and my mind is completely blown.

I catch her back with my palms and snake my way up to her bra clasp – it comes undone and vaguely I can feel hands pushing down my pants the rest of the way – wait? I'm _still_ wearing pants? I unhook my bra myself, and now we're side by side in nothing but our panties. Who knew Rachel Berry would be the one to make me so goddamn insatiable. I lean forward and capture her lips, and then her neck and then her lips again – she almost falls into me completely all over again.

"Hi sexy."

She mumbles against my neck as she sucks on it tightly with pursed lips.

"Tease."

I mumble back as I lean down to catch one of her perfect dusky nipples into my waiting mouth. – it's 3:15 now, I have no intent on stopping. - Oh what the hell? I think suddenly, who in the heck needs sleep anyway?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

9:52am

When I wake up the first thing that I notice is the tangle of blonde hair splayed across my chest – it smells divine, like vanilla and oranges. My eyes blur from the sun peeking in through the unfamiliar blinds and that's when I catch sight of her face. Goodness, she's breathtaking. Is she always this stunning? Her mouth is parted just a tad, and the hair that wraps around her face puffs out with each of her short, sweet exhales. I'm watching her eyes now, and the way her eyelashes flutter with the motions of her dreaming – her cheeks are rosy. I feel like a voyeur watching her like this, but anyone would be out of their right Barbra loving mind if they didn't find themselves doing the exact same thing if they had Quinn Fabray laying naked on top of them.

I touch a finger to her nose out of curiosity and she whimpers – she whimpers, oh my god. And I watch her bury her face deeper into my chest, cradling her warm head right in between my breasts. And now I'm sat here thinking, how the hell did this happen? Because Rachel Berry does not make it a habit to go around gallivanting with random men OR women at random hours of the night – especially when I know I have a show the next morning/afternoon. And that's when I randomly turn my head to the side and set eyes on the blonde's alarm clock.

9:58am

I scrunch my eyes and turn my head over. I can feel Quinn breathing against my skin, and it's so soothing I just want to lie like this with her forever. That is, if she doesn't wake up and instantly regret everything that transpired between us within the last 8 hours. She better not – neither one of us were intoxicated. But I can still feel that unwelcome crawling of impending dread riling away in my stomach. Because things like this don't just happen and then right themselves. Things like these usually manifest themselves into mistakes. Big ass mistakes.

I hope to whatever god there is out there that this wasn't a mistake. I can see her shifting above me for a new position in her sleep and I can't help the tears that are definitely on their way to surfacing – because this is all too good to be true. What if this is a joke? What if the final laugh is on me? What if I become nothing more than a distant memory behind those beautiful hazel eyes? I don't think I'd be able to bear it – because as cliché as a U-Haul sounds – this thing – whatever it is, is coming at me full force and I just can't help but fall.

But I can't let this be a game. I can't wake up and watch her cower away from me, and offer me coffee as a pause to nicely get me out of the apartment. A quick hug and a peck on the cheek, and then I'm on my way home – a pastime. Goodness knows that's happened to me to many times to count, and it hurts all the same with every rejection. With every wave and soft smile as we part ways, this whole affair never having been intended to get past that first night. I learned quickly while in college – they never work out. And that is precisely why that isn't what I want to be to her. Call me a coward, It's perfectly alright – I've already admitted it to myself wholeheartedly.

And now I'm wiggling my way from beneath her. I watch her once, twice, as she falls quietly to the empty mattress, her arms finding a soft pillow to cradle into instead of my own body. I miss her already. I hurriedly get dressed, first my shoes and then my pants, and my shirt, my heels come next, and I'm already crying as I take a final glance towards her sleeping frame. Her back is bare, and it looks like smooth porcelain. I already find myself wanting to head back over to the bed and envelop her with everything I have – I want to touch her again, run my fingers across her shoulder blades, kiss her navel. Kiss her lips.

And already I'm desperately failing at my intent to leave. I shake the tears out of my eyes – because I have no right to cry over my own misdeeds. I wrap my purse up in my hands, and now I'm practically running to her front door – trying to get out of her bedroom as soon as possible because If I were to dawdle any longer, I would have never left.

And just as I scurry down the hallway my eye catches sight of something in my peripheral and I pause. When I turn my head, I find that I'm staring at a large framed reprint of my first playbill ever on Broadway. I've only been in shows for a little over a year now, but the fact that Quinn has this blows me away. I scan the rest of the walls and there are at least a couple more. A newspaper clipping of one of my most promising reviews, another playbill – this one signed by the entire cast, myself included. And finally there is a large framed picture close to the door. It is mounted around a shelf, and I can tell that it is important by the way that it is positioned, there is no way to come and go from this apartment without laying eyes on it along the way.

I take a step closer and now my watery eyes widen because it's a picture of Quinn, Santana, and Brittany. They're in Times Square standing right on the corner of Broadway and 5th Avenue. They are situated directly below one of my play's overlarge posters, the lights illuminating the street against the night. Santana and Brittany are cradled together in an embrace, staring into each other's eyes with so much love it's impossible not for me to smile. My hand traces their figures in the picture finally landing on Quinn. Her hands are around Brittany's middle, linking her with the two other ex-cheerios in a goofy, loving embrace, but her eyes are somewhere else. She's looking up, staring at the large recreation of my face among the many others of my cast mates on the large poster. I know she's staring at me by the way her eyes are sparkling, her chin is turned up and her smile illuminates me from within.

And now I can't help myself from letting out a small sob – because this is all too much. And my heart can't possibly take it if the blonde where to fall back on her words with me. Perhaps it's my insecurities taking flight of my confidence, but I don't stop my feet as I scurry out of the front door. I try not to look back as I make my way to the elevator. The lobby is eerily empty, and just as I walk out into the bright, cold morning, I realize that I have no idea where I am. And suddenly I just fall apart. Crumbling pathetically into pieces. A million of them – blowing away with the foggy wind.

**QRQRQRQR**

I miss my rehearsal call time.

And for the first time in my life I don't have a reason to care. It's almost two o'clock in the afternoon now, and I find myself puffy eyed and red rimmed in pajamas lying listlessly on my living room couch, an untouched cup of tea rocking back and forth between my weary hands. My phone has been ringing all morning, but not once have I answered it – I'm afraid it might be Quinn, calling with a thick tear streaked voice, asking me why I ever left. And so I turned my phone off hours ago, although now that I think about it, Quinn and I never even exchanged numbers in the first place. I sigh, burying my face deeper into my hands. And then there's a loud banging coming from my front door and I jump, flinching at the sound.

My eyes widen because what if it's Quinn? What if she found me? My heart starts to beat out of my chest and the tears come back, they always come back. But before I can collapse into a full panic I hear Benjamin's vibrating husky voice calling worriedly from the other side of the door. My shoulders instantly relax, but I realize that the tears will only continue as I make my way to the door, unlocking it quickly – and there he is.

Benjamin, with his cell phone in one hand and a bag of take out in the other – although he's brought sustenance his lips are pressed together in worry and irritation; however he drops it as soon as he sees my face, hurrying over to me and embracing me in his arms, cradling me like a shield as he leads me back into my dreary apartment. My cries have turned to sobs now, and he holds me as we fall back onto my sofa, the food and the initial worry forgotten.

It isn't for at least fifteen minutes before I calm, and he finally opens his mouth.

"Honey bear, what's wrong? You worried me and Olive sick this morning when you didn't answer your phone, we thought you had been abducted small fry."

God – I love Benjamin. It all began as an acquaintance-ship at Julliard; he was friends with my roommate, a dancer. And somehow in the throes of it all we had found each other. The Jack to my Jill, and when an accident left his knee worse for the wear I was there to hold him as he watched his aspirations for ballet dwindle with his recovery. And likewise, I was there to cheer when he began his career in PR, shooting up the ladder like the successful star he was always meant to be. And so it is only nature that I confide in him now, he is the only one who will listen and won't judge me for my mistakes.

"I screwed up B. I really did."

I sigh into his shoulder as he circles my back with his hands.

"Is this about that darling little blonde at Ruckus last night? What happened Little Bear?"

"Her name is Q-Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

I watch Benjamin nod his head before continuing.

"We went to High School together, and we were both in Glee Club. I hadn't seen her since Graduation before last night at the bar."

Benjamin's eyes widen but his mouth remains silent, I secretly thank him for not speaking because if he gives me pause I may never have the courage to continue.

"S-She and I got along. Really for the first time in our lives. She used to torment me, humiliate and degrade me when we were both still in Ohio, and I expected nothing less than that when I set eyes at her behind the bar at Ruckus….but oddly she turned out to be everything that I never expected. She apologized, and she genuinely enjoyed seeing me. She followed my career Benjamin, she watched me perform. She cared. And I fell."

"And what's so wrong about all of that Bear?"

The tears are going to come back, I can feel them building in my throat as my eyes sting, I clench them shut and tremble as I sigh, waiting a breath before I can speak again.

"She took me home. W –w-we…I stayed the night. And this morning with her wrapped up above me sleeping I completely lost it, and I ran."

I bury my face into Benjamin's shoulder again and ground myself there as he rocks me.

"I'm such a coward. And now, I don't even have her number."

I watch slowly as Benjamin takes my cheeks into his large palms and holds my gaze, steadying me with his brilliant green eyes. I notice faintly that he has the slight traces of shadow gracing his chin and cheekbones – he must have skipped out on shaving this morning in his rush to find and console me. I give him a small smile as he steadies me.

"Was the sex to die for?"

I open my mouth in a scoff and move to hit him on the shoulder but then I realize that his tone is serious, soft even, and I still my hands – an evident flush creeping up into my olive toned cheeks as I nod. And that's when he smiles at me – with all of the care in the world. And as I look at him, I thank the universe for granting such a small piece of heaven in disguise.

"Then go after your girl small fry. Life is too short to sit around and wilt because of moments lost, when you should never lose them in the first place. So go back."

"But I don't have her number B! …what if she hates me?"

"And that my dear Honey Bear is why we live, how would you feel if you never took the chance? …and lastly my dear Rachel, did you not find your way home from her apartment this morning, surely … you can find your way back again."

I smile at him, because surely I never even thought about that. I am an idiot most definitely. I dry my tears on my long sleeves and curl back into the couch, going after the bag of take out that was left forgotten on the coffee table, and before I can make a beeline for it – I am absolutely famished – Benjamin is dragging me to my feet and off to my bedroom's master bathroom. I steady myself in perfect Rachel Berry stance and glare at him as he turns on the shower while I glower.

"Benjamin, I am starving! Let me eat!"

He shakes his head and hands me a towel – where he got it from I have no idea, and before I can say anything he's turning around and heading out of my bathroom.

"Tut, tut Honey Bear. Firstly you smell of debauchery, and secondly, your afternoon show commences in one point five hours – I suggest you get that little bum of yours moving – unless of course, you _want_ to see that subpar understudy of yours Katharine take your place in the spotlight today?"

I gasp out loud, surely it can't be two thirty? I glance at the wall clock above the sink and slap my hand to my forehead in confirmation. And now I'm in full on work mode, not even caring that Benjamin is still in the bathroom as I undress, quickly scurrying myself into the warm spray. I hear Benjamin gag himself jokingly before closing the bathroom door with his exit, and just before he leaves I swear I can hear him muttering smugly as he double checks his reflection in the wide mirror.

"I thought so, Little Bear."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

I walk straight through the double doors at the back entrance of the bar – the large steel ones marked "Employees Only."

As I make my way down the dimly lit hallway I find the back office where I stow my gloves and scarf, and my pea coat. My satchel dangling loosely now on one of the protruding metal hooks on the wall. I look down at my attire and smooth the wrinkles from my black skinny jeans, while I straighten my tight fitting black tank top, and vest. My hair is already up in a ponytail and I wipe at the eyeliner along the bottom of my eyes, smudging it – it's too bad that you can still see the puffiness if you look hard enough.

I clock in, and make my way to the bar front – I was hoping that I wouldn't run into anyone on my arrival in tonight, but my luck hasn't been running smoothly all day.

And there is Rodrigo, he's smiling as he sees me approaching, wiping his tan skinned hands on a wet towel as he moves to embrace me.

"Quinn, mi Hermosa – how was your shift last night, I missed working with you."

His smile is genuine – and had things not transpired the way that they had I may have smiled in return, but all I can do is cover my eyes and turn my head away as the tears come back. I can feel my mascara running down my cheeks and I barely hear the ill masked sob that manages to escape my lips. And before I can move away to hide my embarrassment at falling apart at work, his arms are there wrapping around me and cradling me to him – I love Rodrigo. He's my best friend and confidante, not to mention favorite co-worker. He's a native New Yorker, a Puerto Rican who loves West Side Story and classic New York Deli Submarines. I love him even more for catching me just now.

"Holy Shit Quinn, what's wrong? Talk to me."

I shake my head and straighten my spine, swiping quickly at my eyes as one of the other bartenders passes us by on his way to clock out. I can't have anyone else know that I'm a wreck – it's just not how I roll. And so I shake my head again as he looks at me expectantly, and I watch him frown as he cradles my chin.

"I'll be here when, or if you want to talk. Okay?"

I nod at him and smile, and then Tony is calling me from the front lines to join the fray and so I smile weakly at Rodrigo before grabbing a towel and throwing it loosely in my back pocket, letting it dangle. And now I'm at the bar – Rodrigo and Tony join me – it's happy hour, and I'll only be here until midnight tonight but Ruckus is not the place to be when you suffer the ills of a wrecked heart. With every couple that passes me by, I ache even more – and every brunette that catches my peripheral is an illusion – m brain is playing tricks on me, because surely they all can't be Rachel.

Rachel. God, Holy fucking hell – what a fuck-up that was… I chastise myself as I pour a Redheaded Slut for a couple at the bar. My mind is somewhere else as the drink orders come in. I can't help but cringe every time I think of the feeling in my chest as I woke up this morning with her gone. She didn't leave a note, or a number, or a purpose – it was as if she was never even there to begin with. And it shocks me at just how broken it's made me. Surely we weren't aiming for anything serious, but I can't lie to myself - I've always liked Rachel, hell I thought I loved her when we were in high school together – and now… it's like burning fuel to an already blazing wildfire. And I'm breaking – she's breaking me.

"Hey! What the fuck?"

I don't even notice it, the glass slipping out of my hand onto the counter, spilling the contents of an oatmeal hefeweizen all across the polished top – ale running now, in between napkins and manicured fingers. I fumble with the glass as I try to upright it again once I'm knocked out of my daydreams, but I simply fumble it again between my slippery fingers and watch it as it rolls and crashes to the floor – sending shattering remains across the rubber coverlets.

My cheeks redden, and I can hear the disturbed catcalls of the patrons from the counter – the ones who fell victim to the running beer and wasted glass. I almost break down again, because when have I ever let myself become so flustered? It has never been becoming on me. And within seconds Tony is throwing a rag at my feet and yelling for me to get my act together. Apparently I've been shit all night.

There is a warm hand at my shoulder now, leading me out from the back of the bar towards the alleyway behind the Employees Entrance; I vaguely remember my belongings being placed into my hands and my coat wrapped around my shoulders as I'm ushered blindly outside. And once the soft snowflakes fall atop my skin I finally look up – and Rodrigo is there smoking a cigarette in the cold night, and staring at me intently as I look back up at him.

"You're going home. I've already called a cab."

"That's ridiculous, I'm perfectly capable of wo—"

"This isn't a debate."

"Fuck it all."

I move to turn away in my sudden anger, and one of Rodrigo's hands is stopping me, grabbing my elbow and turning me around again. I sigh into the night and watch as my breath fogs in the cold air around me. Rodrigo takes another long drag off of his cigarette and tisks his tongue.

"What happened between when I saw you come in last night, to now? Because it's only been 24 hours, and you've obviously gone into emotional upheaval… so speak. I've only got a ten minute break here, so make it the cliff notes version."

I curl my fingers into fists because it's much too soon to talk about the mistakes of the morning. But Rodrigo is looking at me with the most piercing gray eyes and I can't say no to him, and so I nod sadly – hoping to portray my story with as much stoicness as possible – If I let my emotions out, I'll never be able to reign them back in.

"I met a girl."

He nods at me, and drags at his cigarette again. I continue – droning on as I feel snow accumulating against my hair and collar.

"Well, I didn't _meet_ her per se. We already knew each other, high school glee club…she ran into me last night during my shift. We hit it off, and this morning when I woke up…she was gone without explanation….there's the abridged version for you."

"So you're telling me that a girl did _this _to you? Made you late for work, and so disoriented that you're spilling drinks, forgetting orders and shattering glassware? This girl did that to your gorgeous eyes…they're so far away now, and almost impassive. One girl…. did all of that?"

I nod and the tears are back again. Fuck it all to hell. I really hate crying, I do – and I've been doing it all goddamn day - when I first woke up at damn near eleven am, naked, cradling a pillow that smelled of her.

I cried when I placed my feet on the cold hardwood floor and searched for her throughout my empty apartment, calling out her name against the white alabaster walls. I cried when there wasn't an answer and all I was left with were the markings of our love making against my smooth skin. I crumbled in the shower when I realized that I now felt utterly physically and emotionally used – and now, all I have left is impassivity, because that's all that I've allowed to remain, it tends to hurt much, much less doesn't it?

"Oh mija…come here."

Rodrigo is cradling me again as for one more time I break into sobs against his heavy arms.

"You have to find her Quinn. You have no idea why she left, she might just be scared, hell I have no idea, but give her the benefit of the doubt – it'll make your heart hurt much, much less for now."

"Bullshit – Besides, it was just an easy fuck – all it was, and all it ever will be. End of discussion."

My eyes are hard now as I stare straight into Rodrigo's now cold ones. I watch his jaw muscles tighten, and I know that I don't mean my words at all – but I can't take them back now that they're out in the open. If anything, what me and Rachel shared – was as far from an easy fuck as one could get. She was everything that I've ever wanted – and I need her back again. I'm craving it so badly it hurts.

"I don't think you mean that at all."

"Try me. Perhaps you don't know me as well as you once assumed."

And before Rodrigo can say another word, my Taxi is here and I climb into the backseat. My head falls against the window as I watch the streetlights and decals pass by in a neon blur against the darkness of the early night; my apartment building looming in the ever-present distance as the motor whines

**QRQRQRQR**

I make my way up the landing slowly – opting for the staircase in lieu of the elevator as I usually do when I need time to think. The extra flights give me peace somehow, and so it isn't until I'm practically tripping over her sleeping body do I realize that Rachel Berry is here, outside of my front door propped up against the wall on the floor – apparently asleep. I watch her flutter her eyes open, they widen instantly and I notice the puffiness and redness of them; I instantly have the urge to scoop her up in my arms and wipe the tears away – but I can't. And so I step over her and unlock my door, acting as If I've never seen her.

She is scrambling to her feet as she chases after me. I can hear her voice rising in urgency as she calls for me to garner her attention.

"Quinn…turn around. Quinn, look at me. Quinn, please, please just listen."

I don't turn around or blink or nod, but I don't stop her from following my shadow through my front door and into the hallway of my apartment. I'm still walking, and she's still begging me to notice her, until finally I feel her small hands grasping at my arm, and with more force than I ever would have expected from her seemingly small frame, she spins me around and pins me to the spot. My eyes widen as her tearful eyes pierce me with an intensity that I've never seen before.

"Quinn, look at me!"

I finally just look – and fuck me, the tears are coming back as a lump lodges in my throat. I watch in slow motion as Rachel reaches up and cups my cheek tenderly, wiping one away as I pause; and then I'm enraged. Because she has no right to do this at all when she is the one who left me in the first place.

"Don't you dare do this."

"Please just hear me out."

"I don't owe you shit… you left me here! You left me here this morning with a broken spirit and a crumbling resolve. Whatever the fuck last night was? It meant something to me! And you walked all over that. So don't give me this crap now Berry. Save it."

"N-no, that wasn't my intention at all Quinn. I care…. I – I care about you. I was just scared because it was all so much, and I was terrified."

My eyes widen in angered disbelief. And I pull a hand away from Rachel's grip so that I can cover my aching heart over my chest.

"And how did you think I felt? Any less terrified? How did you think I felt this morning, or this afternoon, or right now for that matter? How does that change what you did?"

"It doesn't. And I can't ask for your forgiveness, but I need you to hear me out."

I say nothing as I duck my head, rolling my gaze across my feet.

"My entire academic existence, minus college … contained you in it. But consider the fact that the Quinn that you once were used to abuse me verbally, and emotionally almost daily. Consider the torment that that caused…think about it for once. I accepted your apology last night wholeheartedly because the past isn't relevant to us anymore. But don't stand there and believe that although I feel the world for you right now, as far into my bones as it can go – that I can openly trust you without fear of relapse. I find it difficult to trust, because the Quinn I've always known would have used this character flaw against me … falling for the ex-head cheerleader? What a riot right? And what power would I have had to stop you? That is what terrifies me… not this. Most definitely not this. I'm scared because I've fallen, and I can't lose you now that I have you."

I am surprised. Because although I should be angry, I can't help but feel relieved, because Rodrigo was right – I am unsure if I'll be able to forgive her for abandoning me now, but how can I not embrace her, had I not done worse to her before? Perhaps this is simply my karma – however small in comparison it may be.

"That's why you left? That was it?" 

She nods and ducks her head shamefully, and I just lose myself to my senses and my relief. And within seconds our lips are connecting again, my fingers clenching her face fiercely as I capture her within my embrace. The kiss is hot and angry and there are tears streaming down my wanton face but I can't stop. I bite her lip and it draws blood, and I'm suddenly pushing her up against the wall and pinning her. And then she breaks away panting and small open mouthed kisses are bombarding the skin of my face as she whispers over and over again with each and every flick of her tongue against my skin.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey lovelies. Sorry for the long wait. I've been gearing up for Halloween and my birthday. Which incidentally is today :D (yay!) and got lost in what I like to call the real world. But worry no more. Here's a chapter to bide the time until the next one - which is no doubt on it's way. Happy October :D**

**-TSL**

Chapter 5:

I had hurried over straight from my evening show. Of course I could have never forgiven myself for letting my emotions take over my career – and thank Julie Andrews that Benjamin was there to pick up the pieces. It took some bad take-out, a lightning quick shower and dozens and dozens of tears for me to arrive outside of her door. Her door – I can almost feel her if I close my eyes tight enough.

And now I wait. For how long? I don't know.

One hour has turned into two, and two has turned into three. I've exhausted the Doodle Jump app on my phone for the night, and have not the will to pick another. My feet are jumpy and my nerves are tingling. It's well past 11:30pm and she is still nowhere to be found. Have I broken her that badly?

I can never forgive myself for leaving. For abandoning her after last night - but how can I have feelings like this already? And she's Quinn Fabray, she could destroy me if she so chooses, and all I want to do is trust her. When I have no reason to do that in the first place.

I don't swear often, but really, what a clusterfuck. I'm still a wreck. My eyes are still red and blotchy from my earlier tears, and I'm shaking. The nerves are getting the best of me – perhaps I could have done without that five hour energy a few hours ago. I shrug – it's too late now.

I feel my mind slowing down – that's a good thing. The energy boost was pushing my emotions into overdrive, but now I can feel my muscles drooping, and my head growing hazy. The aftereffects of those things are inevitable, and almost not worth the initial rush. I scoot up against the wall and lean back on it. Inching my body unceremoniously to the floor. And before I can make a coherent thought – I'm out. My eyes flutter shut and I can see blonde hair flowing past my eyelids in my dreams.

I don't know how long I've been asleep for, but I suddenly hear approaching footfalls. My eyes snap open and oh my god there she is. And she's stunning, her eyes are just as red if not more so than mine, and my heart breaks – and I want to smile up at her, but when I catch her hazel irises in mine they are cold and angry – and the questions behind them are endless. I see hurt there. I hurt her.

And I watch her walk over my still laid out form and I rush to get up, she doesn't slam the door in my face and I thank the heavens for this small window of opportunity as my feet carry me inside of her apartment. She smells of beer and vanilla – she must be coming from work. And it is now that I make my move – because when else will I have the chance?

And now as my hand clasps around her arm I really stare into her face, and the anger there dissolves – the mask breaks away and she's so raw in front of me. So hurt, and so confused. I have to explain. She yells, and I cringe back, but I have to prove myself to her.

And suddenly she's listening. I have no idea what's coming out of my mouth, but I watch her as my lips move. She's grown hazy as I realize that I must be crying now. But there's a softness in her eyes that I haven't seen since last night, and maybe…I just might have broken through. And just when I think the pause in the air might be too stifling to bear she asks the million dollar question, and all I can do is nod. And before I know it she's grabbing me by the cheeks and pressing into me in all of the right places as our lips meet. I let her guide it – this moment is not mine, it's hers. And my shattered heart starts beating to a familiar rhythm as I let her take me through all of the realms of passion, anger, lust, and desire.

I need air. I'm intoxicated by her, and I need to back away so I can grasp onto some form of reality. I'm drowning in her and I never want to stop. I feel her flick her tongue against my lips and my body shudders – and that's when I can taste the metallic warmth of blood on my tongue – when did she bite me? I can hardly remember flinching at all. And then my eyes flutter open and I really stare at her for the first time since arriving at her door – and she reminds me of happiness.

Her hair is falling out around her face, and her cheeks are rosy with a flush. Her pupils are dilated and black and I can feel her hot breath panting out wantonly against my cheek and lips. I want her so bad. Scratch that – I want her to know how much I need her right now.

And so I delve in. Her skin is hot and her drying tears are streaked – but she tastes divine – and she has to know how heartbroken I am at the pain I've caused - I'm hoping that she understands as I praise her skin little by little.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

Over and over again a whisper on my breath as I idolize her. First her cheeks, then her eyelids – they flutter at my kiss – then her nose, and her earlobe, and her neck and her collarbone. I have to infuse every inch of her with me. So she knows – so that she'll never doubt herself again.

I rise up and capture her lips for another moment. This time it's slow and it's almost as if we're re-learning each other as I trace the softness of her bottom lip slowly with my tongue. And then hers makes an appearance and meets mine tip for tip. Our lips falling over the other's smoothly , carefully, mystically. And is it okay if I never want to stop?

And almost as if God himself heard my inner most thoughts her lips fall away and I wince at their absence. My eyes are still closed, and I feel her hand cup my chin and tilt my face up slowly.

"Look at me Rachel."

Her wish is my command – obedience was always a strong suit of mine. And for some reason I already know that I'll undoubtedly give Quinn Fabray anything her gorgeous heart desires.

"We need to talk before we…get carried away again."

I nod at her. My mind has kicked in again – damn it – and now the nerves are slowly working their way back, because I'm not a fan of uncertainty and failed romance.

"Of course Quinn – I apologize, I should have controlled myself better than what I've shown."

"Don't apologize for _that_ Rachel – because if we had continued I swear to The Gods I would have ravished you without once looking back. And honestly? That isn't in either one of our best interests at the moment."

I'm blushing feverishly now and - oh, Sweet Charity – she's smiling at me. It isn't as wide or as brilliant as her earlier ones from the day before. It's teasing and shy and wistful… but I swear my heart stops.

"Duly noted."

She turns and walks down into her hallway, I follow her – at some point our hands intertwine on our journey and I chance a glance at her wall of photos shyly as we walk past, ultimately landing at the countertop stools at her kitchen. She discards my hand and shuffles around the side, walking up to the cabinets and grabbing on to two small glasses.

"Want anything to drink Rachel? If you name it I probably have it."

"Something alcoholic. My nerves are shot."

"Phew - I thought you'd never ask."

She teases as she pulls down a bottle of wine from a cabinet. I can't possibly read the label but I watch her fingers as she twists the top and grabs a corkscrew – And now she's pouring gracious amounts of it into the two glasses before handing me one over her counter.

"This is oddly familiar. I feel as if I should be tipping you."

I say – because truthfully it is. She's handing me drinks over the counter – the bartender look is not lost on me and I smile. And come on! She's still in her uniform. I hear a faint chuckle and it kills me at how much I missed that sound in a 24 hour period. My eyes turn serious as I take a measured sip.

"Stony Hill 2000, Semillon Du Soleil, 2005. I've been saving it for a meaningful occasion. I hope you like white?"

"It's delicious. Thank you. And I hardly constitute this as a meaningful occasion. We're both tear streaked and emotionally wired. It's almost reminiscent of a train wreck. I apologize again for the casualty. Metaphor forgotten … my fear shouldn't have propelled my actions; and I can never forgive myself for walking out on you."

I watch Quinn as her eyes become calculated; she takes a large gulp of white wine and sets her glass down, resting her elbows now on the countertop across from me. Our faces are close and I watch her eyes flicker between sadness, and hope. I can't decide which one she'll settle on.

"Ah…the serious stuff…Rachel I can't lie to you. What you did really hurt."

Her voice cracks a tad, and I watch her clear her throat, attempting to bring the strength back into it. I lift my hand and graze her cheekbone, leaving my palm resting there. Her eyes connect with mine and we pause – staring at one another – the implications of our silent discussion not lost.

"I know."

"No…you don't."

She turns her head and nuzzles my palm before placing a kiss there – and all too soon she's letting go of me completely and rising up off of the counter to drink more of her wine.

"Tell me…please. So I can understand."

She sighs and finishes off the wine in her hand – I tip mine back doing the same, and I watch her silently as she refills for the both of us.

"I always liked you Rachel. Ever since I first heard you sing the national anthem at Homecoming our freshman year. I remember standing with the Cheerios in the sidelines, and I simply couldn't take my eyes off of you, you were that amazing."

"If I remember correctly Quinn, It was you who propelled members of the Cheerios and the hockey team to throw trash at me in the middle of said performance…."

"You have to understand that back then. I didn't know how to be different. I knew I was different, I always have Rachel – but I couldn't bear that thought, and so as I watched you sing, I had to get rid of it, of those feelings – and the only thing I could think of to do just that was to shut you up."

"That's hardly healthy behavior Quinn."

"Believe me, I know."

She drinks more wine, I mimic her sips unintentionally – our second glasses are almost halfway gone now.

"Is that why you tormented me all of those years? Was that what it was?"

She nods at me and I sigh, because it's simply that heart wrenching to think that Quinn hid her true feelings from the world for so long. Too long – all because she was ashamed. If only things had been different back then, for the both of us.

"Oh Quinn…I'm so sorry."

"Don't be Rachel. I'm the one that should be sorry. I can spend an entire lifetime saying I'm sorry – but it'll never make me feel any better about the things I did, said, and/or let happen to you at my own hands or at the hands of others. I hated you because I loved – and that isn't fair at all. I should have worshipped you."

"Hardly Quinn. It's not as if I'm much better."

"And what do you mean by that?"

Her hazel eyes are swimming with curiosity, and I want to touch her again, feel the warmth of her skin against my fingertips – but instead I drink the rest of my wine, and she follows with hers – and again she tops us both off.

"I liked you in high school too Quinn. Granted it didn't take me quite as long as you to come to terms with it, but It still wasn't something I made aware to myself until we were almost graduating. Did you ever wonder why I always went after your boyfriends? Or why I tried SO hard to befriend you? … because I wondered. And it wasn't until the reality of all of us leaving hit me that I realized that I cared about you - I cared about you more than I cared about any of our other peers. I felt uncertain about myself, and uncertain about my feelings. Because how cruel could the universe be to force my fawning over my very tormentor – I felt so pathetic."

"I'm so sorry Rachel."

There are unshed tears in her eyes and I give her a small smile to calm her nerves.

"And so am I – I'm sorry it took so long for us to get here – and I'm sorry for throwing a wrench in the machine of it all. I'm sorry for leaving you when you needed me there."

Quinn looks at me and nods. She drinks the rest of her wine in one fell swoop and drops her glass down to the countertop. I would do the same but I'm thoroughly buzzed, and halfway on my way to tipsy already, I glance at the bottle and it's already halfway gone.

"Can you promise me something?"

I turn my gaze back to Quinn and she's staring at me so intensely I think I might melt.

"Of course Quinn."

"Promise me that we'll both stop apologizing for our past? I want to start fresh, and I don't want us held back by sorry's and might- have – been's…is that okay?"

I smile at her – it's one of my large face eating ones and she laughs. God I'll never get tired of that sound. And then I stick my hand out and stare at her, waiting for her to grasp it within one of her own. Once she does, I shake. Smiling at our tipsy – renewed salutation.

"Why hello there, it's nice to finally meet you – I've heard wonderful things."

"Hi."

She's smiling right back at me, and I'm growing dizzy from her piercing gaze. My breath catches, and now it's coming out in a small whisper as my cheeks blush.

"I'm Rachel. Rachel, Berry."

"Quinn."

She's smiling back at me – and her voice is so husky now. She's leaning on the counter top on her elbow again and I can smell the sweet fruitiness of the Semillon on her warm breath.

"No last name? That's not entirely fair is it?"

"Fabray. Quinn Fabray… It's a pleasure to finally meet you Ms. Berry."

She's leaning closer to me now, and I can feel the heat radiating off of her skin – we're both smiling at each other, and I catch her hazel eyes. They're boring into mine with so much compassion I almost forget to breath. And my eyes darken at her gaze. My tongue barely a whisper as I run it across my bottom lip unintentionally – her eyes follow the action and darken.

"The pleasure's all mine."


End file.
